Switched Places
by GeneImperfect
Summary: Ernst has been doing poorly in school, and Hänschen refuses to let him fail. Main pairing is Hänschen/Ernst, with some Ernst/Moritz and Melchior/Moritz as side pairings. WARNINGS: corporal punishment, smut including dub-con .
1. Chapter 1

A/N: _Please don't ask what inspired this fic—it was a creative writing exercise gone wrong. I tried to keep the boys in character, but I'm not sure how well that worked out. I hope it's an enjoyable read anyhow. The thing with Moritz and Ernst both being at the bottom of the class comes from the original play._

_Characters do not belong to me, &c. &c._

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SWITCHED PLACES

They were lying under the trees on the outskirts of the vineyard. Ernst had pulled down a branch, and was picking grapes from it leisurely. The sudden sound of Hänschen's voice startled him out of his calm state, and he let go of the branch, sending it flinging upward. "Moritz sneaked into the teachers' board room today."

"Oh!" Ernst was slightly surprised, both uncertain why Hänschen had brought the subject up and in some disbelief that Moritz could have done something so bold. But Ernst knew that his lover as a rule never spoke at random, and he waited for Hänschen to make some connection between this event and the present. "Did Moritz really do something like that?"

"Indeed he did." There was something in Hänschen's voice which bordered on the dangerous. "He wanted to find out whether or not he would be promoted. He went in to look at the students' files. Would you like to know what he found?"

Ernst still had no idea where this was going. He shook his head. "Is he going to pass?"

"Perhaps." The other boy's voice was smooth as silk, but there was something underneath that made Ernst uneasy. "He said that it was between himself and another student. That whoever did more poorly this coming semester would be the one to not be promoted." There was something sinister. "Do you know who that was?"

Ernst shook his head, still confused.

"Why, Ernst, that student is you!" Hänschen feigned surprise. Ernst didn't have to.

"Wh-what?!"

"You heard me." The other boy moved closer. "And do you know what I think?" His face was only inches away. Ernst could feel his breath.

"What do you think?" he responded timidly.

"I can't allow that to happen." Ernst shook his head. "Then you agree?" Ernst nodded. "What can I do," Hänschen continued, "to make sure this doesn't happen again?"

The boy shook his head again. His mouth felt dry. "I don't know, Hänschen." He lowered his eyes, unable to meet his friend's. Hänschen reached around the boy and grabbed his bottom. It took a few seconds for Ernst to register what he meant.

"You—you mean you're going to…?"

"Spank you? Yes."

Ernst was confused. He liked being spanked. Ever since Hänschen had introduced it into their relationship, between them it had always been a form of foreplay.

"But—but Hänschen—"

"This is not going to be the kind of spanking you enjoy." Ernst gulped. "Now go fetch me a switch." Hänschen handed him a pocketknife, obviously to cut the chosen branch from its tree.

Ernst could hardly respond. His throat tightened, and he looked up into Hänschen's eyes for some sign of jest, or perhaps hoping to garner mercy. He saw none. It only caused the other boy to pointedly increase the intensity of his stare. Recognizing the futility of trying to argue, Ernst took the knife, then slowly stood up and made his way toward the trees scattered at the fringes of the vineyard. He took his time examining each branch, fretting over what was to come. In play, Hänschen had only ever used his hand before, and Ernst wasn't sure how he would respond to the novel feeling of the switch. "Ernst!" came Hänschen's voice, "believe me, you don't want to make me wait."

This was successful in startling Ernst from his thoughts. He quickly found a lightweight-looking branch and cut it from the tree, hoping that the one he had chosen wouldn't hurt too much. He returned and handed both the switch and the pocketknife back to Hänschen, who immediately swung the switch through the air with a grand swishing noise, as if to test it. He seemed to find it satisfactory. He took the pocketknife and began to strip the switch of all noticeable knots and branches that might cause real damage; he didn't want to truly hurt the other boy, but he was concerned and felt that he needed to teach him a lesson. "Do you understand why you are being punished, darling?"

Ernst tilted his head upward as if to nod, then an expression of utter lack of recognition crossed his face and he began to shake his head. "I truly don't know, Hänschen. Is it because I'm doing poorly in school?"

Hänschen pondered this response for a few seconds. "No." He returned to stripping the branch with his knife.

Ernst looked even more confused, and stared at his partner, obviously expecting some kind of elaboration. Hänschen pointedly returned his gaze.

"Ernst, it's because I don't want to lose you." The boy only looked more baffled. Hänschen continued, "I can't allow you not to pass. Going on into my next year would be miserable for me if you were not there by my side." He put down his pocketknife and ran a hand through the other boy's dark hair. "That's why I am about to do what I am about to do. Do you understand?" he asked again, gently.

Ernst nodded. "Yes, Hänschen." His lover rarely expressed such sentiments, and he was willing to go along with the whole thing if that was what Hänschen really wanted and thought was best for him. "If that's what you really feel."

Hänschen nodded, then suddenly became aware of himself. His voice became more firm, as if to compensate for the previous display of emotion. "You can assume whatever position you like," he offered, as if to be nice about the whole thing, or at least to mitigate the unpleasantness for Ernst as much as possible. Ernst nodded, and lowered himself down next to Hänschen before lying across the other boy's lap. Somehow, this made it feel more intimate and slightly less frightening. "No," came Hänschen's voice, unexpectedly.

"Wh-what?" Ernst was confused. He had done everything Hänschen had asked, and was just ready to get it over with. "But I—."

"Lying over my lap is too close for me to strike you properly and safely. You can lie on the ground in front of me if you wish."

Ernst had a pathetic look on his face that almost gave Hänschen a twinge of guilt over what he was about to do, but he reminded himself that it was for the boy's own good. Ernst timidly moved himself off of Hänschen's lap and onto the grass immediately in front of him. His lover nudged him gently with the switch, and he scooted a bit further away, until finally he was about a foot and a half away from him. "Is this all right?"

Hänschen tapped his bottom with the switch, judging his aim. "That will be about right. Now if you would please lower your pants—."

"But Hänschen!" Ernst clearly thought that he was already complying with his partner enough.

"Ernst, please," said Hänschen, trying to muster some calm. "Don't make this harder on me than it already is. I asked you to take your pants down."

Ernst exhaled heavily. Hänschen wasn't sure that it could properly be called a sigh, nor whether it was stemmed from resignation or reluctance. But the boy did lower his pants. "Are you ready?" he asked, more gently than Ernst had expected.

"Yes." His voice was slightly shaky.

Hänschen's look of concern became one of concentration. He gently tapped the switch against Ernst's naked behind. Then he raised it just over his head and brought it down against the other boy's bottom. "Ow." Ernst whimpered. The switch landed again. "Yow!" slightly louder this time. Again. This time, as Ernst heard it swish through the air, he cringed slightly, and hissed at the sting as it struck his bare skin. Hänschen looked satisfied at the three thin red stripes now decorating his lover's bottom. _Swish._ Another sharp exhale. Ernst's eyes closed and he tried to focus on breathing. In, out. Calmly. It helped. _Swish._ The switch bit into his skin. The pain in his bottom was beginning to mingle together, with an almost pleasant warmth and tingle to it. _Swish. Swish. Swish._ Ernst's bottom was stinging, but each subsequent stroke unexpectedly bothered him less and less. _Swish._ "Oh, Hänschen!"

"Ernst?" Hänschen's voice had a noticeable note of concern. "Are you all right?"

The boy nodded. "Yes, Hänschen."

"You've had ten strokes. Only ten more to go, all right?"

"Yes, Hänschen." Ernst inhaled, preparing himself for the next stroke. He twitched as it swished down and struck, crisscrossing several of the other marks. _Swish._ Another stinging blow across the previous marks. Ernst gritted his teeth. It was really beginning to hurt now. _Swish._ Damn it. _Swish. Swish. _It was getting harder and harder to brace himself. _Swish._ He began to whimper.

"Only five more, Ernst." The gentleness of his voice contrasted harshly with the burning sting of the next stroke. Ernst exhaled hard. The last few blows couldn't help but cross over the marks made before. He bit his lip, then for fear of drawing blood, clutched the sleeve of his jacket between his teeth and bit down hard against the pain. "One more. This one's going to be the worst; I want you to remember this punishment so I don't have to do it again." Ernst shook his head, his sleeve still in his mouth. He definitely didn't want to have to do it again either. "Brace yourself." He bit down hard. _Swish._ The burning sting felt to Ernst as if the final blow must have intersected every single previous stroke. He moaned into the fabric of the jacket.

The dark-haired boy flinched when he felt something touching his head, before realizing it was only Hänschen's hand stroking his hair. "It's all right, darling. I'm not going to strike you again." His hand ran down over Ernst's shirt collar and began to rub his back. Ernst still felt jumpy, and his bottom definitely hurt, but he gradually calmed down with Hänschen's touch. "I have to get going soon," Hänschen continued, "Mother expects me for dinner."

Ernst nodded, and started to pull up his pants. He let out a soft squeak. The feeling of his pants rubbing against the already-stinging skin was too much for him.

"You can wait here until you feel prepared to go." Hänschen seemed almost as if he had not thought of this as a possible consequence of such a punishment. "No one will find you here." Ernst nodded. Hänschen leaned down and kissed his lover on the forehead; Ernst responded by tilting his head upward and capturing the other boy's lips. "Take care of yourself," said the blonde boy. "And see you tomorrow at school, hm?"

"Yes, Hänschen." He felt as if he'd said that a million times today, but at the moment he just couldn't think. He watched the other boy walk off and make his way to the road. Then he leaned his head over one shoulder to get a look at his sharply stinging behind. It was flushed pink throughout, with some reddish streaks visible across both cheeks.

Suddenly, he heard a fumbling noise and the crunch of leaves and brush. Then came a voice, as fumbling as the footsteps. "Wh-wha—Ernst?"

Ernst's horrified eyes ran swiftly up from the oversized shoes to the mess of hair, as if to confirm the existence of the voice he recognized too well. "Moritz Stiefel—!"


	2. Chapter 2

SWITCHED PLACES Pt. 2

Ernst's immediate reaction was to try to cover himself. He tugged at his trousers, hoping to pull them up as swiftly as possible, but gasping at the pain of the cloth against his raw skin. He quickly realized that the skin was still too sensitive for clothing and did his best to cover his beaten bottom with his hands. He wasn't sure which was more red, his face or his bottom.

Moritz's face was flushed as well. He sounded at least as shocked as Ernst felt. "Ernst! What on earth happened to you?"

"Nothing!" Ernst recognized the illogicality of his response, but he did not think to remedy it. He was deeply embarrassed; he didn't want Moritz to see him like this. He didn't want Moritz to know. He didn't want anyone to know.

Moritz now wore a look of concern. "What happened? Who did this to you?"

Ernst's voice tightened, but he could tell that talking was the only thing that might make Moritz leave. "I just found out... I might fail. Häns—" he stopped himself from mentioning his lover's name. He didn't want to get the other boy into this. He tried to cover up his slip. "Hence! Hence, I deserved to be punished. This happened because I am doing so poorly in school. It was only to help me to do better."

"But who?" Moritz could not think of anyone who would punish the boy like this. He had met Ernst's parents many Sundays after church, and he didn't believe that either of them could be responsible for this. Then he had a realization. "Was it Hänschen?"

Ernst didn't make any sign as to whether the boy was wrong or right, but Moritz obviously knew that his guess was correct. "So it _was _him." His voice lowered to a more gentle pitch. "I understand. My father..." Moritz exhaled heavily. "If my father found out, he would surely beat me as well." Ernst nodded. Poor Moritz. "But what happened to you, Ernst?"

"It was... Hänschen found out that I wasn't going to pass. He asked me why I had never told him I was doing so poorly, and I said I didn't know. I didn't even know until he told me! He said that Moritz went into the teachers' board room and looked at the student reports for the upcoming semester, and..." Ernst suddenly realized exactly what he was saying, and to whom he was saying it. Normally, the boy was slow to anger, but as the words left his mouth they began to sound accusatory. "And you told him that it was between me and you to pass. You are the reason he knew. _You_ told Hänschen!" Ernst did his best not to raise his voice, but his feelings were clear from the changes in his tone and body language. "Leave… Don't talk to me, get away from here!"

Moritz took a few steps back. "Ernst, I only want to help—!"

"How could you possibly help? This wouldn't have happened without you in the first place." Ernst forced himself to pause, and took a few seconds to breathe, to slow his racing head. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to calm down.

"But I can help you. If you'd just let me see." Moritz stepped closer again. He could see that Ernst's uncharacteristic outburst was already beginning to subside.

As he heard the other boy step closer, Ernst was suddenly re-aware of his bottom being exposed, of Moritz knowing that he had been beaten, of Moritz knowing it was by Hänschen, of Moritz's stare focusing on his red behind. His eyes opened. "What do you mean, help?" He was slightly more calm, in a strange way. As if he felt suddenly more willing to accept help; as if he felt somehow more in need of it, more pathetic.

"I know how to make some of the pain go away. You'd be able to pull up your pants," he added. Ernst was certainly amenable to that idea. He nodded. Moritz stepped closer and knelt down next to the other boy. He examined Ernst's behind, looking carefully at the marks, running his fingers lightly over it and feeling the thin ridges where the switch had struck. Then he began massage the welts, pressing gently with his fingertips in a circular motion. "Is this okay?"

Ernst nodded, slightly surprised that what Moritz was doing was helping. He allowed his eyes to close again, and concentrated on the feeling of Mortiz's hands.

Moritz began to rub his bottom more firmly. He massaged the tissue in circles, firmly but gently, moving his hand from place to place to cover all of he skin. He felt Ernst physically relax, and he even heard a few sighs from the other boy. He rubbed until the welts had flattened themselves and were no longer raised, and the redness had faded somewhat to a heavy pink. "Does that feel better?"

"Yes." Ernst nodded. His bottom now felt a tingling sort of warm, rather than painful as it had before. "Th-thanks." He tried again to pull his trousers up, but something else was stopping him this time. _Oh no_. Teenage male bodies have a bad habit of acting of their own accord. Moritz massaging his bottom like that had resulted in an unfortunate, unexpected, and completely unwanted erection.

Moritz noticed that Ernst had stopped midway pulling up his trousers. "Does it still hurt? If you need me to, I can rub it for a bit longer until you can pull them on." Ernst shook his head swiftly, which Moritz ignored and placed his hand again on Ernst's behind.

"That—that won't be necessary." Indeed, thought Ernst, it would only make things worse. He hadn't gotten any pleasure, none that he was aware of anyway, from what Moritz had done. It was simply the result of blood flow and other physiological things he didn't yet understand.

But Moritz was reluctant to move his hand away. "I only want to help."

"I'm fine!" Ernst insisted. "It's okay, it doesn't hurt anymore." He pulled his pants up gingerly, trying as best he could to hide the indications of his problem.

"Good. Then let's get out of here. It's getting dark." Moritz held out a hand to Ernst, as if to help him stand.  Ernst shook his head.

"No, that's all right, Moritz. I'd much rather lie here for a bit longer." He didn't want the other boy to see.

"But we should go!" Moritz seemed jumpier than usual. He took Ernst by the arm and began to pull him up. Moritz's efforts were miscalculated, however, and he did not succeed in pulling the other boy to his feet. Instead, Ernst was flipped onto his back. As soon as Ernst realized the implications of this, he tried to reposition himself as quickly as he could to hide the bulge in his pants. He was not quick enough; Moritz had noticed and continued to stare at Ernst's groin for several seconds after. Then he shook his head and turned away. Ernst raised himself to a full sitting position and stared fixedly in the opposite direction.

There was a long silence in which they both tried not to acknowledge the erection. It was just one of those trials of male adolescence: your penis does as it pleases, regardless of your wishes or even your understanding.

Moritz attempted to break the awkward silence, saying, "I'm glad I could help you feel better," but this only made the silence even more awkward. They continued to sit without speaking or even looking at each other. Again Moritz broke their silence. "Ernst?"

"Yes?" Ernst managed to reply. He still couldn't quite look the other boy in the eye.

"What…" Moritz took a deep breath, as if he needed time to formulate the words. "What do you and Hänschen do?"

Ernst turned to stare at Moritz, not understanding. "What do you mean?"

Now it was Moritz who couldn't meet Ernst's eyes. "I mean… what do you _do_. Like..." He looked around as if someone might hear, and his voice lowered itself to a nervous whisper. "Like _sex_."

"What!?" This question flustered Ernst more than anything that had yet happened in this increasingly awkward encounter. He blushed, but managed to maintain his composure enough to speak evenly. "Moritz, what business is it of yours?"

"I don't know!" Moritz stammered. "It just is!" Ernst looked confused yet again. "What I mean—oh Christ." He began to spout out a stream of disjointed thoughts. "What I mean—I tried to ask Melchior. He wrote it all down for me. About—about how sex works. And yet, the way he explained it—he only wrote about the female. And I need to know—Ernst, please don't tell another soul." Ernst shook his head to indicate that he wouldn't. Moritz's voice became hushed again. "I need to know. About the male." Ernst continued to stare; Moritz continued to fumble his words. "That is, about two males. I just have to know." Moritz stopped; he seemed out of breath. "I'm sorry, but you were the only one I knew to ask. I certainly couldn't ask my _parents_! Nor Melchior."

Ernst didn't understand why the boy couldn't have asked his best friend, but he decided it wasn't his business to pry. "Moritz, I can't tell you that! No."

But Moritz insisted. "Ernst, please! I apologize, I do, but where else can I go?"

"Why do you think you can come here, to me?" Ernst's face was bright red again. "What made you think I would tell you that?"

"Well," Moritz asserted, "I didn't get the impression you would mind." A wavering smile played at the corners of his lips, as if he were hiding one last bluff.

"What—what do you mean by that?"

"I only mean, that it doesn't look like you don't want to tell me." He stared pointedly at Ernst's crotch, which still showed some evidence of an erection, then let his gaze trace its way up Ernst's body until finally it met again with the other boy's eyes. "If you can't tell me… perhaps you could _show_ me."

Ernst shook his head vehemently. Moritz slid his hand up Ernst's thigh, his trembling arm betraying his nervousness. Especially in comparison to Hänschen, the boy was utterly inept, and yet to Ernst he suddenly felt just as inexorable. "Moritz, Moritz I can't—! Stop this!" Moritz's hand was now on the fabric directly over the bulge in Ernst's trousers. Ernst's hands dug into the dirt and his feet kicked as he scrambled to get away from the boy's touch, but Moritz kept moving in.

"I saw you earlier. And you're still hard." He clumsily accented this statement with a caress. His voice, less shaky than his arm, felt breathy on Ernst's face. "I don't believe that you don't want to show me."

"But… but!" Ernst tried to shove Moritz away, but as he pushed his hand against the boy's chest, it only served to upset his balance and instead, he fell flat on his back beneath him. "But—!"

**A/N:**_ Back again with a second chapter. I hope you liked it! I tried to keep the boys as IC as I could, but interactions between these two are difficult to do. A brief pronunciation note: the _ä_ in German actually makes an_ "eh"_ sound rather than an_ "ah"_ sound (They pronounce it wrong in the musical, which bothered me a little); so, "Häns--!" would sound very similar to "Hence!", in case anyone wondered about that._

_Also, a question for my readers! Are you interested in some Ernst/Moritz smut? Personally, I think it would be hot, but if you all would rather see Ernst have sex exclusively with Hänschen, I can do that too. Let me know what you think._


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N:** I apologize for taking so long to upload this chapter. I had so much to write for my classes these past few months that I was completely drained and burnt out on writing. I really have been working on this chapter since February. The events I had planned to put in this chapter actually turned out to be much longer than I thought, so I've decided to divide it up into two parts (this first half will likely be longer than the second half). Hopefully the fact that this chapter is over 500 words longer than usual will make up for how long it took me to finish. Warning: this chapter does contain sexual content (and probably a bit OOC to accommodate for that, though I tried my best)- if you don't like smut, or Moritz x Ernst, you should skip to the second half of Part 4._

_Disclaimer: I still don't own Spring Awakening, nor do I make any profit from this blasphemy.  
_

**SWITCHED PLACES Pt. 3**

Moritz crept forward until he was straddling Ernst, his face directly above his friend's, then leaned down and forced a kiss on the other boy. "Mmmmnnnh!" Ernst attempted to protest against Moritz's lips, but it only resulted in a more violent grappling of mouths. Gathering his strength, Ernst placed his hands against Moritz's shoulders and shoved hard enough to free his lips. He inhaled a horrified gasp. "Moritz! What in the name of Heaven—!"

Moritz lunged clumsily forward a second time. This time, he only grazed the other boy's lips before Ernst finally got his footing and managed to kick himself out from underneath Moritz.

"Ernst, please!" Moritz sounded desperate, perhaps from needing to find out the desired information, perhaps from having done such a thing without considering the consequences. "You can't understand what I'm going through! Hell, _I_ don't even understand what I'm going through—what's going on with me—my mind, my body…" The boy's distress was palpable, and it clung, as if for its life, to his every breath. "What I just did! These feelings, this—this need. I don't understand it."

There was probably some truth to Moritz's protests, thought Ernst; after all, he himself hadn't spent much time agonizing or even pondering over his sexuality, trying in vain to sort out his own attractions. He had simply happened upon it. After Hänschen had kissed him, he had had to do some thinking, of course, but resolution had undoubtedly come more quickly and easily for him than it must have come for Moritz. In other ways, however, he understood more than Moritz thought. He too felt the oppressive weight of social norms, the fear of his father and mother finding out what he and Hänschen had really been doing down at the vineyard. Not to mention struggling through the sermons at church when the pastor said that his actions were sinful, his feelings were lust and not love, his desires must not be acted upon. Even now, he sometimes had trouble reconciling his religion and his sexuality.

Moritz's voice interrupted Ernst's thoughts. "Besides, don't you want to get back at Hänschen? For what he did to you? He hurt you first."

"No, Moritz! He didn't—he didn't…" Ernst's voice grew softer, "hurt me."

Moritz couldn't believe his ears. "If he didn't hurt you, then why is your butt covered in welts? If he didn't hurt you, why did I hear you crying out?" Moritz lifted Ernst's chin and looked him in the face. "If he didn't hurt you, why would you have lashed out at me like you did? You're not like that, Ernst."

Ernst's face responded with a subtle wince, and though Moritz was still holding his chin, he swiftly averted his eyes. Moritz's words stung at something deep inside him. The things his friend was saying sounded all too true. Ernst didn't want to hear them. "That's still not enough of a reason to…"

"Isn't it?" Moritz was remembering back to conversations he'd had with Melchior on the subject of Ernst's relationship with Hänschen; Melchior was of the opinion that Ernst was being taken advantage of. "What do you think sex is to Hänschen anyway? You think it means something to him?"

"It does!" protested Ernst. "And so do I. You've been saying things like that this whole time, but who are you to judge?"

"A friend. Who cares about you." Moritz leaned in and kissed the other boy again, but Ernst's lips still made no attempt to reciprocate. "Don't you feel a thing? Anything?" Truth be told, there were many, many feelings churning within Ernst. Feelings ranging from loyalty to betrayal, fear to curiosity, friendship to desire. He didn't know which to follow.

Moritz moved in to kiss him again, but this time Ernst blocked him. "Stop! Stop. I'm confused." Moritz took hold of Ernst's hand and squeezed it gently.

"So am I. And I'm asking for your help! I've got no one else to turn to on this." Moritz wrapped his arms around Ernst and drew him closer, blushing as he leaned in and planted another desperate kiss on his friend's lips.

Ernst responded this time, kissing back gently and leaning in, allowing Moritz to draw him closer. In the midst of his confusion, Moritz seemed in that moment to be the only thing that existed without question. Not to mention that his body already seemed… excited about the idea.

This did not go unnoticed by Moritz. His hand returned to Ernst's trousers, and began to rub again against his growing erection. Ernst made a soft, agreeable noise, which he found thankfully encouraging. Moritz pressed his lips to his friend's, and Ernst's mouth opened instinctively, as if offering his tongue entrance. Moritz seized the opportunity, crashing his tongue roughly into Ernst's. As they continued to kiss, Moritz climbed on top of Ernst and began to fumble with the boy's clothes, clutching Ernst's hair in one hand and attempting his zipper with the other; after several tries he managed to get traction and the zipper came down. Yanking the bottom of Ernst's shirt out of his trousers, he began again to rub Ernst's erection, this time through only one layer of clothing.

Ernst groaned and leant his hips into the hand, enjoying the sensation; he didn't know why, but he felt no compulsion to stop what was happening. The whole thing felt unbelievably deviant, which fascinated him. Moritz was completely different from Hänschen: while his lover's persistence was smooth and confident, arising from what seemed to be a great deal of experience that Ernst didn't care to think about much, his friend's was purely impulsive, as neurotic as his behavior always was. His lack of experience was blatant, but the boy's typical method of figuring things out was to jump into something without thinking and learn in the middle of doing, and indeed, he was getting better as he went on. And this encounter was definitely unlike anything Ernst had ever experienced, and certainly unlike anything he had imagined when Moritz proposed the scenario; he had been coerced, perhaps, but he didn't feel forced. Somehow, existing only in this moment, Moritz's touch felt good. Suddenly, Ernst noticed that it wasn't there anymore.

After a particularly fierce kiss, Moritz's hands left Ernst's body completely, only to unfasten his own trousers to reveal his underwear-clad arousal. However, the hands quickly returned to Ernst. Moritz now began to unbutton his friend's shirt, kissing and nibbling his way down Ernst's neck.

"Ow!" Ernst yelped. Moritz looked up. "Don't bite so hard."

"Oh," said Moritz apologetically, "sorry." He immediately returned to distributing not-quite-so-rough kisses down Ernst's neck and chest, moving further and further down with each button he unfastened. Moritz had only unbuttoned Ernst's shirt a little over halfway when he decided to go after his nipples. He kissed and sucked his way across his friend's chest, first teasing the left nipple with his tongue, flicking back and forth across the rapidly hardening flesh, causing the boy to moan emphatically. Satisfied, he moved his attentions to the right nipple, again licking and sucking until Ernst could hardly stand it.

"Hnnnn… oh… my…" Ernst let out a long, dragging sigh that seemed to empty his lungs of every particle of air that was in them. Something channeled through him, and he felt an abrupt impulse to become an active participant. He rushed to unbutton Moritz's shirt, having no trouble with the top two buttons, but fumbling with and eventually popping off the third.

Moritz paused and looked the other boy in the face more seriously. "Ernst, are you really okay with doing this?"

Ernst was given pause. "We've already gone this far…" Moritz seemed troubled.

"But how much further is there to go?"

"We haven't even—I mean—I haven't even, well…" Ernst tried to phrase things politely. "Been… inside you." To say that the look on Moritz's face seemed not to understand would have been an understatement; the boy looked as though he couldn't even fathom what Ernst meant by "inside him." He finally managed to speak.

"But—you see—I had thought _I_ would be the one to—you know."

Ernst looked at him dubiously. "Moritz, have you not considered what just happened to me?" He pointedly rubbed his bottom. "I don't think I could handle something like that right now."

"Oh." Moritz seemed slightly put off on the surface, but in truth, he didn't mind the idea as much as he let on. After all, ever since Melchior had given him the essay, he had wondered what the woman must feel during the act of intercourse. Still, he found the whole idea mystifying. "But how do you… make love… without a _vagina_." It was more of a statement than a question. Ernst had trouble coming up with a response. No, that wasn't true. There was an answer burning at the back of his brain, burning all the fiercer with the knowledge that he ought not speak it. His tongue finally gave in to temptation.

"You said you wanted me to… show you?"

Moritz nodded hesitantly. "That is—if you want to—so do I." It was certainly tempting. After all, Hänschen had never allowed his lover to penetrate him, though this was for reasons unknown to Ernst; he was therefore insatiably curious about what it might feel like. On the other hand, here was the perfect opportunity to be satiated. He decided to take it.

"All right." Upon hearing this response, Moritz lunged forward and kissed him hard on the lips. Ernst, while he acknowledged the kiss, continued to unbutton Moritz's shirt all the way down, then slid it off his shoulders and discarded it onto the grass beside them. After removing the shirt, he ran his hands down Moritz's back and tugged at the waistband of his trousers; since the other boy had already unbuttoned them, Ernst was able to slide them down easily until Moritz's buttocks were exposed. He gripped them firmly in his hands and leaned forward until Moritz was flipped onto his back, after which he positioned himself between his friend's spread legs. Moritz seemed to get the hint that whatever-it-was was about to happen, and he reached forward and began to pull Ernst's underwear down, which surprised Ernst. He blushed and tried to grip the waistband in one hand, still cradling Moritz's bottom in the other, protective of his modesty even in such a compromising situation.

That is, until he heard Moritz whimper "Please—I want you" in a voice that sent a rush of blood surging to his groin. Never in his life had Ernst felt like this before; the voice inspired dominance, arousal, and an accompanying loss of rationality. Any worries about Hänschen finding out were pushed to the back of his mind. He grabbed Moritz's bottom again, then slowly slid his fingers into the crack between his buttocks and pressed a fingertip against the opening there. He let his finger trace a circle around the outside of the entrance, rubbing it teasingly. Moritz gasped. "Is that… is that where—?" Ernst nodded and began to slowly penetrate Moritz with his finger, slowly circling and stretching and sliding in. This elicited hard-to-interpret moans that Ernst assumed from his own experience were an indication of pleasure; he believed this must mean that Moritz was ready for him.

He brought his hand to his mouth and coated it thickly with saliva, then brought it back down to his erection, lubricating himself in preparation. He rubbed the head against Moritz's entrance; Moritz sucked in a breath of air and bit his lip. Ernst pressed tentatively into his friend's body, trying to enter Moritz slowly and gently. However, it seemed that Moritz's body didn't want to give in easily, and Ernst responded by gradually increasing the pressure against his tightness. Not familiar with being the active partner, Ernst assumed that once he entered the other boy he would have immediate control over the depth of penetration. He was mistaken; he did finally penetrate him, but the pressure that he had built up resulted in an unintentionally abrupt push inward, rather than the gentle slide he had intended.

"Ouch!" Moritz cried out, as if from a sharp pain. He had obviously not found the accident pleasant.

At first, Ernst made no response; he was too embarrassed to admit to his lack of experience with being the dominant partner, and anyway Moritz didn't need to know about his sex life. Then he recalled what Hänschen had told him on his own first time, and decided to use the excuse on Moritz. "It always hurts at first. Just relax, it won't last long." Moritz whimpered but nodded, and Ernst let himself slide in further, this time better able to control the speed and depth. As he felt the base of Ernst's penis against his body, Moritz groaned. "Is that all right?" Moritz nodded, unable to speak. Ernst began to slide out, and Moritz nodded again, more strongly this time, letting him know it was okay to keep going. He pushed back in, enjoying the unbelievably good sensation. "Oh god!" No wonder Hänschen liked doing this to him so much, he thought. The feeling of Moritz around him was incredible. And Moritz seemed to be enjoying it now too, judging by the noises he was making. After taking a few thrusts, he leaned forward and began to suck on Ernst's neck and down his shoulder, which only made him feel even more heedless. He began to enter and exit more quickly, gasping aloud when Moritz bit down and made a hissing noise into his shoulder.

Both of them felt completely unable to restrain themselves, but neither seemed to care. At that moment, nothing else existed in the world except intense sensation, sweat, kisses, and the sound of their breathing. No thoughts, no responsibilities, no tomorrow, not even the reticence and shyness each of them felt constantly in everyday life. All of it was gone, replaced by pleasure and desire and need. Moritz's hands ran up Ernst's back, clutching around his torso and holding him close. Ernst leaned in and gripped Moritz tightly, allowing Moritz to kiss him fiercely while he continued to enter and exit his body. Something was building deep within them both. They were brought together by insatiable hunger, by desperate want. It wasn't love, but in that moment, it was enough.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: ** And here is the second half of what was Part 3. This story is, for some reason, very difficult for me to write lately. Not to mention that the last chapter didn't get very much traffic- maybe it's the Ernst/Moritz stuff. Hopefully I didn't lose any readers over that; I promise it contributes to the plot (trust me, I wouldn't have put so much effort into it if it didn't). Sometimes I think I should have left this as a oneshot between Ernst and Hänschen, haha. On a more happy note, this chapter confirmed the suspicions I had after writing_ Just Try It_: I really enjoy writing masturbatory erotica. :D I hope you enjoy reading it. Oh, and the italics are Hänschen's thoughts.

Spring Awakening doesn't belong to me, the characters do not belong to me, I make no money off of this filth, &c.

**SWITCHED PLACES Pt. 4**

That evening, Hänschen Rilow was lying on his bed indulging in one of his favorite pasttimes. He had been recalling the events of earlier in the day, and for some reason the thought of beating Ernst had made him unexpectedly aroused. Never one to miss an opportunity to masturbate, Hänschen now had his hand down his pants and was rubbing gentle circles with his fingertips on the underside of the head of his rapidly hardening penis. Whenever he had the leisure of doing so, he preferred to build his orgasm up slowly; he found that it led to much more satisfying results. This particular fantasy was perhaps best accompanied by a slow buildup anyhow.

_Ernst lay facedown on the ground, with the waistband of his trousers resting just above his knees. Hänschen inspected his beautiful, pale buttocks, running his hands up the boy's leg and softly grasping the flesh he loved doing such wonderfully filthy things to. But now was not the time for that. He removed his hand and picked up the switch, swishing it several times through the air until he was satisfied. The sound of the branch rushing through the air set his groin afire._ The corporeal Hänschen's shaft was hardening just as rapidly, and he began to indulge himself with slow, smooth strokes.

_Swish! Fantasy-Hänschen laid the first stroke across Ernst's flesh. "Ow…" Ernst whimpered, sending a thrill down Hänschen's spine and straight to his erection. He observed as the red streak on his lover's bottom rose into a thin welt. Then he struck again. Ernst let out another cry._ Hänschen began to stroke himself faster. He didn't know why the memory of beating Ernst turned him on so much, but he also wasn't about to argue with the sensation. _He continued to bring the switch down, feeling his heart pounding in his cock as he watched Ernst squirm under the lashes, and heard him panting almost sexually. To Hänschen, it was certainly erotic. Soon, he couldn't stand it anymore. He threw the switch aside and flipped Ernst over onto his back, then proceeded to yank off the boy's shoes and trousers. "Hänschen, what are you—?" Ernst tried to speak, but his protests were interrupted by Hänschen's lips and aggressive tongue. "Mmmmmhh!"_

_ "I thought you'd see it my way."_ Hänschen moaned as he imagined Ernst's muttered, utterly unconvincing pleas. He was in a dominant mood. His fantasy self inexplicably lost his own shoes and trousers and was perfectly positioned between Ernst's legs. _He slid his right hand seductively down his lover's inner thigh, pausing at the juncture between the leg and… where the figs lie. Hänschen waited for several seconds before tracing a teasing finger along the bottom of Ernst's penis, which was itself beginning to show signs of arousal. He ran his hand back down the shaft and cupped the orbs at its base in his fingertips, caressing them gently before letting his fingers slide even lower down. When he arrived at Ernst's entrance, he began to rub gently against the boy with two fingers, pressing into the muscle and persuading his lover's body to relax itself._ Hänschen brought his hand to his mouth and coated it with saliva, before beginning to stroke himself with more vigor; his fantasy self also lubricated his hand, although with a slightly different purpose in mind. _With his fingers now slick from saliva, he brought his hand back down between his lover's legs and pressed his fingers more firmly against the opening there. Ernst's body began to accept him, and he slid his fingers slowly but surely inside, his erection in ecstasy from the sensation of his partner's smooth warmth._

Hänschen groaned loudly and decided it was time to get to the good part. _ The saliva coating his hand mixed with the slick pre-cum that Ernst always managed to excite from him. He grasped his penis firmly and pressed it against Ernst's body, entering him with painstaking slowness and care; the sensation never ceased to amaze him._ He tightened his fist and slowly pushed himself through the aperture, his selectively vivid imagination churning at full speed.

_Ernst began to make soft, pleasurable noises as Hänschen slid inside. This turned him on so much that it was all he could do to restrain himself from taking the boy in one swift thrust. Finally, after what seemed like forever, his hips were flush with his lover's and he felt Ernst's tightness all the way down to the base of his shaft. This was truly the brink of eternity._ Hänschen had to stifle a loud moan for fear that his father would hear him from the next room. God, why did Ernst have to be so delicious? No other thoughts had given him such intense feelings as these, both physically and, though he was loath to admit it, emotionally. But with his imagined lover, there was no risk of rejection or losing control; he could let go of his façade. He whispered aloud into his phantom's ear: "I love you." _Ernst's eyes filled with emotion and lust, and he threw his arms around Hänschen's shoulders and drew him in close for a passionate kiss. As Hänschen nibbled his way across his lover's cheek and down to his collarbone, Ernst returned an "I love you too" in a voice that Hänschen knew was smiling. As his mouth gave its attentions to his neck and shoulder, his hand skated across Ernst's chest and down his abdomen until it reached his erection. Ernst gasped as his lover grasped him firmly and began to pump him up and down, all the while never stopping the indescribable motion of his hips._

Hänschen was thrusting into his own hand with greater and greater speed; he was imagining himself thrusting ever harder into Ernst, perhaps to compensate for his previous sentimentality. Things were becoming imminent. He imagined that the penis he felt in his hand was Ernst's, the sweat he felt on his body was Ernst's, the taste in his mouth was Ernst's. It was driving not only Hänschen but apparently Ernst to climax.

"_Oh my God Hänschen, I'm going to—I'm going to—!" Ernst squeaked as his semen began to spurt out onto his tight stomach. _Hänschen clenched his hand around his own shaft as he imagined Ernst tightening around him as he came.

"Fuck, Ernst!" Hänschen hissed through his teeth to his phantom lover. He began to crash faster and faster into his fist as he imagined being inside Ernst. _Harder, harder, faster he pounded into his lover, his hips slapping up against Ernst's ass forcefully. Ernst yelped again, and the sound sent Hänschen past the point of no return._ The cum pumped out of his penis and by the time he was finished, it was coating his hand. His body felt completely drained, but satisfied. The thought crossed his mind, _I wonder what Ernst is doing right now._

Little did he know that his fantasies had a grain of truth.

* * *

"Oh my God Moritz, I'm going to—I'm going to—!" Ernst squeaked as he felt his semen pour out of his body and into his friend. In a fit of passion, Moritz grabbed the sides of Ernst's face and pulled him close, crashing into his lips and forcing his tongue inside the boy's mouth. Ernst acquiesced, allowing his own tongue to indulge in Moritz's caresses.

And yet, as they kissed, something began to feel horribly wrong. It was as if what he had just done finally hit him, and a panic over the consequences of his transgression started to sink in. He broke the kiss and pulled himself out of Moritz's body, forcing Moritz's legs down from his shoulders with a sharp shrug. He rolled his body off of his friend's, landing on his back beside him. Moritz turned on his side to face Ernst, smiling gently as he moved in to once again capture the boy's lips. However, this time Ernst reacted unexpectedly, jerking his head away when Moritz's mouth brushed against his own.

This hurt Moritz in a way he didn't quite understand. Gently, but with a strong hint of desperation, he questioned, "Ernst? Ernst, what's wrong?"

"I don't—I can't—no." Ernst covered his face with his hands. "Please just go." He turned away from Moritz onto his side, curling up into an almost fetal position. "Shit…"

Now Ernst was acting very uncharacteristically; Moritz had never heard the boy curse. "I—I'll just…" his voice trembled, much like the fingers now fumbling with his zipper. As soon as he managed to get his clothing into an acceptable level of order, he raised himself clumsily to his feet, looking down at Ernst with pity but also with no idea what to do, then sprinted off as suddenly as he had arrived.

Tears burned at the bottom of Ernst's eyes. What had he done? God, what had he done? "Oh, God…" His small shoulders shook softly as several tears stained the ground beneath him. But he soon composed himself, wiped the tears from his eyes, buttoned his shirt, zipped his pants, and straightened his hair. He stood up, brushed off his clothes, and headed home. When he arrived, he told his mother he had been studying with the Rilow's son and had eaten supper with them, then went straight to his room where he disrobed and collapsed onto his bed, sinking into a sleep that was thankfully without dreams.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N:** I'm sorry this has taken so long to update; I have been spending my time this term working 2 jobs and applying to graduate schools (Wish me luck). Also, it is really hard for me to write a story when I don't know what the readers are thinking about it. Are you enjoying it? Hating it? Anything you want to see more of, or less of? PLEASE tell me-it helps me a great deal in writing the story. (And sometimes inspires new stories...) Spring Awakening and all characters do not belong to me, &c._

**SWITCHED PLACES Pt. 5**

When Ernst left for school the next morning, he was glad for once that he had a habit of waking up earlier than Hänschen. He didn't know how he would respond if he saw the boy today; after what had happened yesterday, he wasn't sure he could stomach it. The morning, however, was bright and sunny, full of cheerful birdsong, and by the time he had arrived at school Ernst's spirits were just a bit lifted.

That is, until he entered the building and saw his lover already waiting for him just outside the classroom. "Ernst, Sweet." Hänschen's voice and demeanor were unusually gentle, especially for being in a public space.

Even so, when Ernst heard the voice, he startled. "H-Hänschen!" His stomach dropped, and suddenly he was no longer sure if he was breathing.

Hänschen was obviously concerned. "I only came early to make certain you were feeling all right after yesterday. Which is clearly not the case." He stepped forward and brushed away the hair that had fallen onto Ernst's blanched face; the boy shook as if he thought Hänschen was about to strike him. Hänschen noticed. "Oh, dear. As soon as I woke up this morning, I wondered if the decision I made yesterday was wrong. Now I see it was." His hand still resting on Ernst's hair, he drew the boy close and kissed his forehead. "I'm sorry. Can we talk about this later?"

Ernst gave a shaky nod; he didn't trust his voice. He let Hänschen guide him to the classroom, where they took their usual seats. As Ernst lowered himself into his chair, he felt as if he was sinking slowly into a pool of guilt. He had acted as if he feared the threat of violence, and Hänschen had thought it was because he had beaten him into submission. He was completely misreading the response—Ernst was the one who should bear the blame for his behavior, not his lover who had only been trying to help him. He still couldn't believe he had sex with Moritz; luckily, the boy had not yet showed up, and it was nearing the start of class. Perhaps he couldn't handle it and would be absent today. That would be a sigh of relief for Ernst.

The other boys filed in one by one—Georg, Otto, and at the last minute, Melchior—but still no sign of Moritz. Ernst heaved a sigh as Herr Sonnenstich entered the classroom and began the day's lesson. He paid rapt attention, using the class as a welcome distraction against the pangs of guilt that had plagued him all morning. He was not looking forward to this talk with Hänschen.

Suddenly, a scuffle of footsteps. Moritz Stiefel clattered into the room, looking even more of a mess than usual. "Herr Stiefel!" barked Sonnenstich, "tardy for the second time this week."

"I'm very sorry, sir—." _Thwack._ Sonnenstich's rod struck him squarely across the chest. Moritz cringed.

"Although I don't know what else I should have expected from you." Sonnenstich growled, "We will now resume our lesson. Can you tell me, Herr Stiefel, where and when the Peace of Westphalia treaties were signed?"

Moritz's voice trembled. "Th-they were signed… were signed in Münster in sixteen… sixteen…"

"Yes?"

"1684."

"Wrong!" _Thwack._ Moritz was struck again. "They were signed in 1648. Some treaties were indeed signed in Münster, but where else?" Moritz simply stood, trembling, his enfeebled lips barely able to move; it was obvious that even had he known, he would not have been able to answer. Herr Sonnenstich struck Moritz sharply, a third and then a fourth time; the boy looked as though he were about to cry.

Melchior stood up. "Sir!" Herr Sonnenstich's gaze directed itself toward the boy for whom, out of all the boys in the class, he had perhaps the most distaste.

"What do you have to say, Herr Gabor?"

"Sir, it is my fault that Moritz was late to class. I was late in leaving for school, sir, and I did not stop to pick him up as I usually do, for fear that I would be late myself." He looked Herr Sonnenstich straight in the eye. "If you are going to blame someone for his tardiness, please blame me."

Sonnenstich smirked. While the Stiefel boy was certainly an irritation, any opportunity to punish Gabor was one we would willingly take. "Very well, Herr Gabor. Herr Stiefel, you may be seated." Moritz nodded, unable to meet neither his instructor's glance nor Melchior's, in spite of the fact that his friend was obviously trying to catch his eye, as if it were obvious to him that something was wrong with Moritz. As he shuffled meekly to his seat, Moritz made a ferocious attempt to avoid Ernst; Ernst noticed this and swiftly looked away as well.

Hänschen sat in the background, observing quietly as both Moritz and Ernst cringed guiltily when Herr Sonnenstich's rod made a loud _Crack!_ against Melchior's chest, and made a mental note to ask Ernst what exactly must have happened between him and Moritz. He could tell from the look on Melchior's face that not only was he not involved, but he had absolutely no idea what was going on; no use asking him. The dialogue between Gabor and Sonnenstich continued, punctuated at random by the sound of the rod. _Melchior Gabor is the only boy I know_, thought Hänschen, _who seems to be struck whenever he gives a correct, thoughtful answer_. He chuckled under his breath at the irony, but wondered vaguely if he himself might have turned out similarly, if only he had had any scruples.

* * *

When the class took a break for lunch, Moritz gathered his food and nearly bolted for the door. Melchior, concerned, rushed after him. Georg, Otto, and Bobby all followed out the door at a more leisurely pace, chatting amongst themselves. Hänschen took up his own lunch and stalked up to Ernst like a pussycat. He ran his fingers lightly up the back of Ernst's neck, causing him to jump.

"What?" Ernst turned his head swiftly around, unsure whom he most wished not to be there. However, he had no choice in the matter; he discovered it was his lover. "Oh! Hänschen, it's you…" His voice trailed off, completely unprepared to answer to anything the other boy might have to say to him.

"So tell me, what exactly happened between you and Moritz yesterday, darling?" The other boy's hand snaked around Ernst's shoulder and gave it a gently firm squeeze.

"What? Me—me and Moritz? How do you—" He stopped himself. Perhaps Hänschen didn't know what had happened. "What do you mean?"

"I can tell from the way you were acting, the both of you." He continued. "_Something_ happened. Did you confront him?"

"N-not exactly."

"Then what on earth happened? You can't meet my eyes or his."

Damn. His lover could see right through him. There was nothing Ernst could do; he was a very poor liar, and with Hänschen pressing him he was even less able to fabricate a story. In this case, he decided that he feared the consequences of the truth just a bit less than those of telling a lie. He lifted his head slowly, his voice tremulous. "M-Moritz forced himself on me."

Hänschen's face dropped into a blank, as if he could not process what he had just heard. "Excuse me? Forced himself on you?" The corners of his eyes and mouth tightened into contorted shapes; he was obviously processing things now. He parsed his words gingerly, not betraying exactly what emotion he was trying to hold back. "What. Do you mean. By that?"

To see Hänschen like this was frightening; Ernst completely lost his composure. "He saw me—lying there—with my pants down—" every several words Ernst spoke were punctuated by a sob— "and he came—he came and—took advantage…" He couldn't tell Hänschen the whole truth. He simply couldn't. He would never betray Hänschen. Unable to hold the other boy's gaze any longer, Ernst hid his face in Hänschen's blazer. He couldn't articulate any more.

But what he had said was more than enough. Hänschen began to shake; Ernst looked up to see what was wrong. A fire was burning behind Hänschen's eyes like nothing Ernst had ever seen. His partner nearly had to force his response through his teeth: "This will be resolved."


	6. Chapter 6

**SWITCHED PLACES Pt. 6**

That afternoon seemed to pass terribly slowly, but at the same time all-too-quickly, and soon enough the school day was over. As usual, Ernst waited for Hänschen as he packed his things, but when the boy had everything put away, he didn't seem to be heading home. "Ernst, you go ahead and start walking home. There's something I need to speak with Herr Sonnenstich about. I will catch up to you." Ernst nodded and made his way out the door.

Hänschen walked up to Sonnenstich's desk. "Sir, there is something I'd like to discuss with you, if you have the time."

"Yes, Herr Rilow, what is it?"

"It's about Moritz Stiefel, sir." The instructor looked up, as if to ask what on earth the boy had managed to do wrong this time. "Yesterday, sir, Moritz was in the professors' boardroom. He told us that he had been looking through the students' private files." His external demeanor was completely solemn, but on the inside he was getting quite a thrill from his own twisted vengeance. "I thought that the faculty should be made aware of his breach of conduct."

Sonnenstich responded with an impenetrable stare. "Thank you, Herr Rilow. The boy's behavior will be addressed immediately."

Hänschen nodded respectfully and walked out of the room, speeding up as he left the school building to catch up with Ernst.

Ernst had purposely been walking more slowly than usual so that Hänschen might catch up to him as quickly as possible. Still, he was surprised when he heard the sound of running feet, followed by the sensations of an arm being wrapped around his shoulder and a nibble on his left earlobe. He squeaked as he felt Hänschen's breath across his cheek. "Sorry for the delay, Ernst. Now, do you think your mother would mind terribly if I came over to help you study this afternoon?"

Ernst blushed. "No, I'm sure it will be fine."

* * *

"Oh, the Gallic Wars are so very dull." Hänschen sighed and leant forward, resting his forearm disdainfully across the open pages of his textbook. He allowed his eyelids to droop, as if to express that he was utterly unimpressed with Caesar. "Virgil was better."

Ernst looked up at him exasperatedly. "But Hänschen, I am having so much trouble with it! Don't you find any of this difficult at all?"

Hänschen shook his head. "I find it completely useless. They ought to at least teach us _meaningful_ Latin."

Ernst's head ducked back down, and he returned to confronting the words on the page. He muttered something that, to Hänschen, sounded very much like _I didn't know there was such a thing_. He gave a startled yelp when the text was pulled out from under him and a lithe, pale arm pulled him close. "Oh really? Then let me… _teach _you," his lover purred. Ernst suppressed his initial reaction to struggle away, though he wondered with some trepidation what the other boy intended to do to him.

"Mmmm… _mentulam tibi fellare volo_." Hänschen's voice was simultaneously silky and slightly coarse as his hand slid slowly up his lover's inner thigh.

"A-and what does that mean?" inquired Ernst bashfully, exhaling and leaning into Hänschen's attentions.

Briefly, Hänschen's mouth left Ernst's shoulder to whisper a translation into his ear, which he punctuated with a hand rubbing against the boy's groin. He smirked broadly at the resulting look on his partner's face.

Ernst's face flushed a heavy pink. "Wh-where do you learn these things?"

Hänschen simply laughed. "Never you mind that." He was not about to divulge to anyone his secret fascination with Catullus. "All that matters," he breathed into Ernst's ear, sliding a hand up his thigh, "is that I want to do them to you. And I'd like to move to the bed, if that's all right."

Ernst gulped, but nodded. Having sex with Hänschen again might be just the thing he needed to make him feel better about everything; perhaps it would help him to forget all that had happened the previous afternoon. Ernst stood up and made his way slowly to his bed, with Hänschen close behind. He propped himself up against the wall, his head supported by a pillow, and Hänschen crawled up next to him, his body moving fluidly like a tiger about to attack its prey. He leant his head down and began to nibble gently at Ernst's neck, flicking the sensitive spot just beneath the boy's ear with his tongue, which elicited a soft moan from Ernst, then sucking on his earlobe, which brought forth another moan. Hänschen kissed his way down Ernst's neck, unbuttoning the boy's shirt so swiftly that he did not once have to stop as he kissed and licked along Ernst's collarbone and down the center of his chest, placing a single kiss tenderly over the other boy's heart. Having unfastened all of the buttons, he spread Ernst's shirt open with great gusto, ducking his head down yet again to lick gently at the very tip of his left nipple, then moving in and swirling his tongue around the nub, sucking at it in the way Ernst loved so much he could hardly stand it. Ernst arched his back into the sensation, his body silently begging Hänschen for more; he obliged happily, his mouth leaving the left nipple to focus its attentions on the right, while he used his fingers to play with the now-moistened nipple he had just finished sucking. His partner gasped, barely more than whisper. Hänschen continued to tease both nipples at the same time, waiting patiently for a more vigorous response.

But Ernst continued to make hardly any sound, which bothered Hänschen to the point that he couldn't continue. He lifted his head from Ernst's body and looked him straight in the eye. "Ernst. What's the matter?" To anyone else, his words may have sounded cold, but Ernst recognized the note of quiet concern in his voice. Ernst shook his head; he wanted to deny that he had a problem, but his throat suddenly felt too constricted to make a verbal response. "I _know_ something is wrong. You can't hide it from me. Tell me, what can I do to help you?" No, it wasn't simple concern—it was more like helplessness. "What can I do, Ernst?" Hänschen's voice was cracking.

Ernst couldn't handle this anymore. Hänschen didn't deserve this; he didn't deserve to be hurt because of Ernst. The tears which had slowly been filling his eyes finally overflowed, and the boy began to sob. "I'm sorry, Hänschen. So s-s-sorry. I can't do it! I can't do it to you—after yesterday—!" Ernst hiccupped.

"Shhh, hush now. I understand…" Hänschen's voice trailed off ruefully. "It's all right, you did nothing wrong."

This only made Ernst's guilt even more overpowering. He protested, "B-but, but I did! I hurt you, I hurt all of you—!"

"Shhh!" Hänschen pressed a finger to Ernst's lips. Normally, he would have cut his lover off with a kiss, but he did not want to provoke any further negative reaction. "None of that. Hush now." He brushed Ernst's hair back off of his forehead, which had fallen during his abrupt movement. "There's no reason for you to feel that you've done something wrong. All right, Ernst?"

Ernst couldn't confess—his lips felt numb and his tongue immobile. But he was bursting inside, his remorse was overwhelming and he had to relieve his conscience somehow. "But I—But I—!" He stammered uselessly. He simply could not bring himself to tell Hänschen what he had really done. "You shouldn't want me anymore!" he continued to protest in vain. Hänschen cocked an eyebrow, silently asking where that idea had come from. "I'm—" he hung his head in shame— "I'm dirty." Hänschen shook his head sadly and reached out to rest his hand on Ernst's cheek, opening his mouth as if about to contradict him. But Ernst would have none of it. "No! I've ruined myself! Don't touch me!" Ernst jerked away from his lover's hand.

"Ernst!" The look on Hänschen's face made him regret what he'd done all over again. "Darling, you aren't dirty. You certainly haven't been ruined. Moritz will pay for what happened, I promise you! But you and I should not have to! You and I _will not_ suffer for it. We don't deserve it." The cadence of his voice was soothing and protective. Hänschen moved his hand slowly toward Ernst's face again, prepared to stop if the boy reacted poorly, but this time Ernst allowed him to touch his cheek and wipe away his tears.

Ernst nodded slowly in agreement and finally began to calm himself; his breathing slowed down and the tears stopped flowing. He was soon able to swallow the knot in his throat, and eventually he managed to speak, albeit shakily. "I… I suppose you're right. You don't deserve this, Hänschen." At this point, Ernst was concentrating exclusively on his own breathing. "All right. I think I can now."

Hänschen returned to him a questioning look. "You can what?"

A soft voice; Ernst's usual gentle demeanor seemed to have returned. "I think—I think I do want to make love."

"Are you sure?" Hänschen looked him in the eyes, still concerned and perhaps slightly doubting.

"Yes." Ernst nodded reassuringly. "Yes, I'm sure."

"Good." Hänschen's hands moved down to Ernst's waistline and began to unbutton his trousers. Ernst continued to breathe slowly and deeply, but he was now relaxed and his sighs were of an entirely different nature than before. When Hänschen had removed his trousers completely and began stroking him up and down, Ernst nodded briskly to show his consent.

Hänschen made a guttural noise, aroused by Ernst's eagerness, and rushed to undo his own trousers; in spite of everything that had happened, he could not wait to feel his lover surround him once again. After he had released his erection from the confines of his pants, he coated his hand thickly with saliva and lubricated himself. Ernst gasped, fully aloud this time, and when Hänschen pushed inside of him, everything else flew from his mind.

_**A/N:** "_Mentulam tibi fellare volo_" means "I want to suck your dick," for the curious readers among you. Catullus wrote a bunch of [often dirty] Latin love poetry, which I can imagine Hänschen would secretly have read if he ever got his hands on it. As before, please let me know what you like and what you don't like-it helps me to write faster and better. I mean it, I want to know. Spring Awakening and all related characters do not belong to me, &c._


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: **__ I sincerely apologize for taking so long to post this. In all honesty, I've had it half-written since January; I just couldn't summon up the muse to finish it. I've also started graduate school, which leaves me precious little time to write for pleasure these days, and what I have been writing, I'll admit, was for another fandom. But I swear I'm back now, and I hope this chapter will be worth the wait for my readers, no matter how long you've been following this story! Spring Awakening is the one fandom I know I'll never leave; hopefully the next update will be within the next 2-3 months, depending on how much of a workload I have from university._

**SWITCHED PLACES Pt. 7**

The next day class was dismissed several minutes early. All of the boys were noticeably excited at the thought of leaving the oppressive atmosphere of the classroom, gathering their things amid enthused chatter and escaping the building as quickly as possible. Ernst, however, waited patiently as Hänschen packed his belongings into his bag more slowly than usual; it was as if he were waiting for something. His eyes followed Moritz out the door, or rather up until he reached the doorway and halted at the sound of Herr Sonnenstich's voice. "Herr Stiefel! May I have a word with you?" Moritz's shoulders stiffened and he held back. Hänschen finally swung his bag over his shoulder and left, with Ernst trailing behind. As they walked past him, Moritz turned to face the teacher. The startled boy froze again when he looked into Hänschen's face and saw a leer that for some reason turned him cold. He was in such a stupor that he did not register Herr Sonnenstich's voice. "Rilow, Röbel, please dismiss yourselves."

Hänschen nodded politely and escorted Ernst out of the classroom. They walked together down the hallway and took the usual turn toward the exit, but unusually, Hänschen stopped in his tracks after they had turned the corner. Ernst looked puzzled, but as soon as he opened his mouth to speak, Hänschen had placed a finger across Ernst's lips to silence him. "Shhhh. Wait for a minute." While contemplating what this might mean, Ernst heard a loud voice from within the classroom.

"Herr Stiefel!" Back in the classroom, their instructor was beginning to get impatient. Finally recognizing his own name, Moritz shook himself out of his trance and stepped forward with trepidation.

"Sir?"

Sonnenstich looked down upon the boy, not significantly taller than him but no less imposing a figure. "Follow me. The faculty would like to have a word with you."

Moritz's head gave a nod, but he couldn't keep the rest of his body from shaking as well.

* * *

"Ernst, follow me. There's something I want to show you." Hänschen's voice was calm on the surface, but there was a hint of maliciousness beneath which slightly frightened Ernst, like a powerful liquor that was smooth on the tongue but burnt going down one's throat. Still, he followed behind the other boy until the blond stopped moving and gestured silently for him to peer around the corner.

They looked out just in time to watch Moritz creep fearfully into the boardroom, after which one of the faculty members already inside the room walked up and shut the door behind him. Hänschen turned the corner with Ernst trailing behind, moving them both closer to what was about to take place. He rested himself against the wall outside the door and listened.

"Herr Stiefel! We have been informed that you entered the boardroom without permission. Further, you have been accused of looking through students' private files. Is this true?"

The two boys outside the room could hear Moritz make no sound. A swift, sharp crack that was unmistakably the sound of a cane striking the wood of the table reported loudly from inside the room, accenting the repetition of the demand. "Herr Stiefel! An answer." A muttered whimper followed by an imposing voice that did not belong to the previous speaker. Then they heard something along the lines of the adults having no other choice or being left with no other choice. "Herr Stiefel, remove your blazer and bend over the back of the chair."

Just outside the door, Hänschen smirked at what he knew was about to happen. He could vividly imagine Moritz fumbling with shaking hands at the buttons of his school uniform. Ernst, too, knew what was about to happen, but desperately wished that he didn't.

* * *

Moritz was bent over a chair in the boardroom. He had placed his jacket on the table in front of him, as instructed, and now he was gripping the seat of the chair over which his body was stretched. Several instructors, if not more, surrounded the long table which spanned the room's center. Suddenly, Moritz felt the cane tap against his bottom and jerked forward, then realizing he hadn't even been struck yet. At this point, he was quivering from nerves, and justly so. After what seemed like an eternity, but at the same time far too soon, he finally heard the harsh _swish_ of the cane through the air behind him. It struck his buttocks with a loud _crack_, and for the first few seconds after, he felt absolutely nothing.

Then pain came flooding in. It was unlike any pain he'd ever experienced before, a deep burn that seemed to knock all the air from his lungs. Moritz yelped at the intensity of it and straightened back up, releasing his hold on the chair for the moment. Bu the instructor wielding the cane barked, "Get back down! Bend over and grip the seat of the chair." Moritz agonizingly complied, his body still shaking. Another _crack_ of the cane echoed through the room, which seemed to have the optimal acoustics to make this ordeal seem as loud and as violent as possible. With this stroke, Moritz only whimpered, but again his body straightened up, as if of its own accord. The pain was simply impossible to fathom, more than the boy could ever have guessed it would be, and it spread like lines of fire across his buttocks.

"I said, bend over! If you can't stay down yourself we will hold your arms to the chair." Moritz was trembling and gasping for breath. He bent back down again, with the distinct feeling that he was about to die. The pain as his pants stretched tighter against his buttocks was incredible; even putting pressure on the welts felt nigh unbearable. He braced himself halfheartedly for the next blow and hopelessly insisted to himself that he would not cry.

* * *

The cane struck again with a tumultuous _crack_ that sounded quite loud, even to the two observers who were still lingering just outside the room. Ernst cringed at the sound of it; Hänschen did not. Another harsh voice rings out inside the room, clearly enough for both of them to hear. "All right, if you can't stay down, we'll hold you down." The two boys could make out a shuffling of feet, then the indistinct sound of rustling fabric which could only mean that Moritz had finally been grasped by the wrists and was being held tightly against the chair. Moritz's voice could be heard then, whimpering some words in protest— "No, sir, please—!" but the caning went on with indifference to his protests.

At what must have been the sixth or seventh stroke—Ernst, in his horror, had lost count—Moritz screamed. Cringing outside the door, Ernst was overwhelmed with guilt, and with the emotions he often felt at the suffering of any of God's creatures. After that anguished cry, he simply couldn't stand to hear anymore. "Hänschen, I—I can't do this anymore!" His voice was higher-pitched than usual, as if his throat had tightened and Ernst himself were about to cry. "I really must leave. I can't listen to this anymore…" The younger boy's voice trailed off weakly.

At first, Hänschen was confused as to why his lover would not want to observe the rest of the punishment of the boy who had so egregiously wronged him; it was certainly something he personally wouldn't give up on. But then he smiled to himself; it was Ernst, after all, his dear Ernst, who could not bring himself to wish such harm on anyone. "Very well. But_ I_ wish to hear the rest. I suppose I'll see you tomorrow?"

With those words, Ernst was tempted to hang back. What if Hänschen tried to talk to Moritz afterward? What if he found out the truth? Would he believe Ernst over Moritz, if their stories conflicted, as they would inevitably do? But he had already made his decision, it would be too suspicious to decide to stay behind now; besides, he truly was unable to bear listening to any more of the brutal punishment. "Y-yes. Tomorrow. See you!" And with that, Ernst scurried off, determined to get home as fast as possible and blank the horrifying sounds he'd just heard from his mind.

* * *

By the end of the ordeal, one could only hear Moritz sobbing. Hänschen could tell from the change in quality of the noises coming from the room that he wasn't even fighting anymore. It had been only twelve strokes in total, but as Hänschen knew, even that was likely to have drawn blood. Once it was evident that the punishment was over, Hänschen moved himself out of range of the door, so that he would not be visible from inside the room should anyone happen to look his way.

Soon after, Moritz slouched out of the boardroom with a reddened, tear-stained face. It was evident from the quality of the redness in his cheeks and the stain on his sleeve that he had already tried to wipe the tears away repeatedly, and he was gripping at his buttocks in agony, as if his life depended on it; as if he could somehow tear the pain away. Then, Moritz noticed Hänschen. "Oh my god… Oh my god. Y-you were listening?"

The blond's voice was smooth, but it still betrayed a dark amusement. "To every stroke." The smirk on Hänschen's face would have sickened anyone who saw it. "It was unbelievably satisfying. Ernst was listening too."

Moritz's eyes widened at that, and he gave a soft gasp. "Did he tell you? Are you even _aware_ of what happened? Did he tell you we—?"

"He told me everything. I know you had sex. That's why I'm happy to see you being punished." Hänschen didn't loose his cool outward equanimity even now, even though the anger he clearly felt at Moritz was seething under the surface of his words like a silent, nearly imperceptible poison.

For a moment, rage flashed across the brunet's features, and it seemed as if Moritz were about to strike him. However, it was as if something was physically holding him back; after a few seconds, he paused, his fist hanging in mid-air with a palpable tension. His raised arm began to quiver, and suddenly the expression on Moritz's face broke, and he dropped the arm to his side and spun. Having turned his back on Hänschen, Moritz ran off in tears, his sporadic, staggering footfalls echoing erratically through the hallway, leaving the blond to stare, startled but satisfied, in his wake.


End file.
